


Somnium

by CultMother



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark Fantasy, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, M/M, Monsters, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 10:24:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CultMother/pseuds/CultMother
Summary: In the flow of time, many things are lost to us. Memories, friends, family. Ourselves, even. We are forever changing as human beings, but there is only so much all of us can take as we grow older; our hearts may turn to dust, our feelings to a mere shadow. Some of us, however, can't take the reality that someday, all they'll become is dust. They can't handle the fact that one day, their destination will be an empty grave, dug just for them. It is in the pursuit of immortality that sacrifice drips from our hands, the dust of others who've taken our place in our graves. But, those bodies pile up and what happens when they can no longer fit any more in our graves?The Dream Crystals. The Somnia. Like a disease, they spread across the lands of Eltrya in the dark ages. Still, like cancerous growths, they take the land from those who try to tame it. Immortally frozen in time, animals, lakes, rivers, clouds. Nothing can escape their reach and the clusters are nearing the villages that hide away from the demons and natural creatures of the land; much threatens Eltrya, but twenty-year-old Eriyas thought that she'd never have to deal with it, not in her lifetime. Not until she meets the legendary assassin, Dreamlock.





	Somnium

**They shall rebel inside a walled city.**

**~ Book of** Dystia ** _,_ Goddess of Prophets. Foretold by ** Ahemn **.**

When you wake up, do you presume that the greatest of evils faces you when you gaze into the mirror? No, because you're you. You couldn't be evil. You're good. Or maybe you're just alright. Maybe you do admit to having a bit of bad in you, but you'd never be downright evil, correct? Think again. The path to hell is paved with good intentions and you, honey, well, you're on the paved highway, shooting down the lane at one hundred and forty miles per hour.

Of course, this story was never about you. It's more about a girl who herself can't face the fact life is what it is, it's about a man who finds comfort in seeking to curve death's embrace. We all have a little bit of human in us and by the gods, I'd be ashamed to be that human myself. This tale doesn't exactly take place in our world, it's more of... well. Elytra. A land filled with lush resources; the envy of our world today, for sure. The beauty there is immeasurable; the feral tribes of Caits, who stand proud and tall with their tails curled around their bodies. Now, don't get them mistaken for those halflings, the, what do you call them, beastlings? They are as proud as they are to slit your throat should you mistake them for a halfling, even on accident. For these proud people, conforming to the current society of Elytra, which isn't much more than cities with walls, is the last thing they want to do. Hell, Caits even have a law where they're not allowed to copulate with humans.

Damn, humans. Where should I start with these fickle, petty, worthless creatures? They're all the same blobs of flesh, aren't they? Wear their hearts on their sleeves, right? They're mad for power. Harmful to any and all that get in their way. Don't take it personally. If you were a human, I never would've liked you anyways. They leave a certain taste in my mouth that I dislike, a little sour. Definitely nowhere close to as beautiful as the land, more of destroyers, really.

Elytra. Humans, dragons, Caits, Elves, even the people of the stone call this land their home. Rich, overflowing with good land, beautiful landscapes, rushing rivers and endless paths going god knows where. There are huge cities; four of them, that make up all of society; each city is about as big as the half the continent of Madagascar. Why so big, you ask? Well, Elytra isn't just beautiful. It's also deadly, dangerous, demons, monsters and dragons lurking about waiting for a lone sheep to stray from the pack. Strength in numbers, right? Some areas of the cities are overpopulated; people are scared to leave. They fear what lurks beyond their precious walls and defenses, so much that they do not even try to understand it. There is plenty of darkness in this world, crime, between the four cities.

Those who are brave enough to venture beyond the safety of numbers are called adventurers. These people train their entire lives to go out there and collect materials from the beasts of the lands; something in high demand, but also a job rarely taken. Our story begins not in the arid desert, the waterlands or the plains, but in the first village to have popped up on the map; the village hidden in the lush forests, a great wall making up its defenses. Where Caits have elder councils and a packmaster to lead their tribe, the villages have village leaders; Magisters. There is only one Magister per village, followed by three advisors and two assistants. Where Caits honor laws made by time and practice, rituals and democratic voting, Magisters may create laws on the go. There is corruption amid the Magisters, but there are only four and they are as good as kings in the eyes of the people who they protect from the oncoming demon threat.

Folisum. It was midnight. The city was silent, save for a few taverns and bars operating past curfew for Guardians who worked during the day. The chatter on the streets was minimal as they were almost empty; nobody wanted to get caught and punished for something as silly and little as breaking curfew. One man, however, walked the main road. There was no fear or caution in his steps as he approached the great gates of Folisum. Seven guards were at the ready; the patrol had been relaxed due to minimal monster activity. Usually, there would be forty on guard outside of the walls and thirty patrolling the streets within. The next day happened to be a holiday, so most guards were being given a break. Seven guards on the outside and three patrolling the streets of a city that big; humans, they're stupid. I'll never understand them.

Regardless, the humans grew restless as the man approached the city, even the sounds of his footsteps undetectable. One of the guards, a burly man with a spear, stepped forwards. His hostility was clear. "Turn back. Unless we are ordered, we're not to let a single soul in past the dark hours." He gestured to the sky, a glittering nightscape of stars. The mysterious man's head tilted back, his lips parting as his eyes scanned the sky. To see his mouth forming words made the guards only more uncomfortable, especially when he was seemingly speaking to himself. The burly man turned back to the others, confusion dancing across his features. The lights of the city usually attracted monsters, hence why the curfew was in place to prevent too much light from escaping the walls; the stronger monsters came out at night. The warrior's eyes had already adjusted to the darkness long ago; they rarely strayed from the dark, due to their night shifts on the walls.

Still, the mysterious man continued to chant, taking another step towards the guards. They readied themselves, prepared to disrupt the man's path by force should it be required. The next thing that happened, well, if someone were to see it would be known as a brutal, bloody massacre few men could commit. Hands tore from the earth, an inky shade of black, ripping limb from limb as if the guardsmen were mere parchment. It was a nightmare as the guards were even stripped of their right to scream, the hands crawling down their throats. It was silent, taking place in a mere moment; five seconds. The silent killer, seemingly pleased with his progress, walked towards the great iron doors. However, he did not reach out to open the doors. No, instead, the man's outline faded to mere shadows as he passed through the village's towering defence, their pride and joy, with no trouble.

Still, the sound of silence was something that rarely came to the front gate. Yet it hung, foreboding, over the entrance to the village like a dark omen.

**~ Selsas the 16th, morn of the Hallowsoul Festival ~**

Eriyas swung her basket as she walked, absentmindedly, along the inner walls of the city. The lamps were lit and the guards were all going to be on duty tonight, fighting away the monsters that came attracted to the sounds of laughter in the air, scents of food wafting along spiraling currents of the breeze and the beautiful call of a lit pathway that was the front gates. Her bare feet brushed against the ground and she could almost hear Ria's screams on how she'd have to be given another bath before going out that night.

As Eriyas reached the hay bales meant for feeding horses propped up against the wall of the field in the city, she clawed away at some of the hay, revealing a tunnel. The horses had grains and oats and finer foods so they chewed away at the bales a much lesser rate. In fact, they'd be fed more than ever tonight due to children dropping their candied apples everywhere. "Back again causing more trouble, I see."

Whirling around, freezing on the spot while her jaw dropped open she did a double take as her eyes took in the person who'd caught her. The stablehand. Eriyas thought his name was Kai-something-or-other; he was on Ria's list in terms of boys she wanted to make completely and utterly fall in love with her. Eriyas knew he was one of what they called the abandoned. Kids of different races abandoned at village gates in the dead of night in hopes that someone will take them in. Give them a better life than what was outside the walls. If Eri remembered, Kai-something-or-other had gotten out of the orphanage about a year or two ago.

His cheekbones were high, almost gaunt and there was a bit of a flushed, rosy look to them as if he'd just stopped running. He wore a plain, white casual shirt, the sleeves cutting off at his elbows. The thing that brought the most attention, however, was his ears. They pointed unlike any other; he was an Etax. Most called them Elvish, Elves, Eleven, but that was their slave name. Etax got hugely offended should you refer to them as elves; it took away their freedom, their independence. It was rumored that even the gods, except for their own, referred to them as Elven.

Eriyas was at a loss for words, feeling as if her tongue was caught in her throat. She'd been caught. It had never happened before; everyone asked where her grandmother got her herbs, how they were so unique. How she didn't buy them all from the market. The truth was, there was a way out of the wall. One Eriyas' grandmother had used before Eriyas was born.

Eri glanced between the exit and the boy who caught her. Maybe she'd make a dash for it. "I don't know what you're talking about," Eri guessed the best approach was to act like she was a god damned idiot. Her grip tightened on the handle of the wicker basket her grandmother had given her for herb collecting. The wood that spiked out in different directions on the arc that was the handle dig into her palms, scratching against the sensitive skin. Homemade basket, which made sense.

The Etax grinned slyly. "Sure you don't. As if I don't see you here digging through horse shit every other day. I'm not stupid, you know." Eri wanted to mentally slap herself. Of course he'd noticed, her, on the other hand, didn't notice as much as a fly watching her. "Relax, I won't tell." He crossed his arms, glancing over at the other end of the field where the herd of horses were all grouped around the pond. "If you want to go, you'd better go now. Horsemaster will be back in ten. Bad timing."

Fuck. Of course the horsemaster's rounds wouldn't be as lengthily today; nobody was using horses. Eri had all but forgotten that small detail about the festival... she turned away but Kai-something-or-others' voice filled her ears. "I'm Kai by the way. Kai Leia." He paused as if waiting for a response. Eri really almost slapped herself for not realizing that he wanted her name, too.

"Eriyas Morganeau. Pleased to meet you." Hell, was she gonna do a curtsy and start dancing with him too? She really needed to go. Eriyas, ducking into the straw before Kai Leia could say anything to her, crawled through the makeshift tunnel. The straw was very heavy, m the scent of the stables permeating her nostrils. She crinkled her nose in distaste, sighing. The sooner she got the trip there over with the sooner she could get back. Eri would probably find herself chastised by her mother when she returned to the inn. Not something Eriyas was looking forwards to. As she tried to warm herself out of the little cavern of straw a flash of grey burst in the corner of her eye and she froze, panicked. Not moving at all, Eriyas' eyes widened in fear as an Ogre Wolf stalked across the clearing of the meadow on the other side, crushing a good amount of herbs under its massive paw.

It was as large as it was fearsome, its chest heaving. It walked with a limp, snarling, blood trailing along its path. Its fur was slicked back with blood; presumably not its own. Whatever tore into it possibly got the worse end. All Eriyas could think was how it was wasting a good amount of herbs; the wolf seemed to topple over, into the grass, lying there. Breathing steadily. It made a pained whimper and Eriyas relaxed; it seemed just like a dog, like this. Eri felt bad for the ogre wolf. A force seemed to drive her forwards, voices whispering in her ears. They all sounded like her own.

As she crawled from the hay, the ogre wolf's ears perked up, at attention. Flicking. The massive beast did not move. It knew she was there. Eri should have turned back but her curiousity, something she didn't think she had, pushed her forwards. It was hurt. Another step and the wolf's head shot up, its eyes staring straight through her. It bared its fangs, showing all the way to its gums as it growled. It struggled to stand to its feet to defend but easily collapsed as it attempted to use its front leg. It was massive; Eri rose her hands to show she meant no harm, but it growled again. Eriyas put the basket at her feet and advanced forwards, the growling going from high to low. She bent down, picking some fradule from the ground, before lifting it to her lips and chewing off the head. Maybe it was a monster but her grandmother taught her not to leave behind any injured man. In this case, it would just be a monster she'd be aiding.

She spat the chewed up head of the plant into her hand, her open palm tilted for the monster to see. Her fingers splayed out. She took a step forwards and it struggled to push itself away but she only attempted to soothe it with hushed whispers. Promises of gentleness. It seemed to stop its struggles but gazed at her with a hard glare and she suddenly understood; _if you hurt me, I end you._ It was clear, his mouth slightly ajar showing pointed rows of sharp teeth. He would easily be able to lunge forwards and devour her. Her fingers ran against his fur and the ogre wolf let out a sharp, contented sigh. Had he ever been touched before? Doubtful. Only by his own kind, she assumed.

Eriyas smeared the pulpy excess of the flower and her spit in his reddened wounds and the wolf let out a sharp hiss between his teeth. His paw was four times bigger than her hand, if not more, easily able to crush Eri's head. If he needed to, swipe her away with one powerful blow. Still, he allowed her near enough to continue treating his wound. When Eriyas was finished, she backed away, lifting the handle of her basket warily as the ogre wolf stood to his true height. She was about the height of one of his legs and one step forwards shook the ground underneath her feet. Eri's face paled as he advanced, froth dripping from his lower maw...

The wolf let out an ear-splitting howl and turned, dashing away into the woods; she watched him go, almost sadly. Maybe this was his way of thanks; sparing her life. Rather than using her as food. At least there was honor among monsters. Eri bent down to collect the herbs she could before midday; it was very clear that if the wolf had come to the herbal meadow, there was no telling what would arrive next.

It had been several hours at the least when Eri was done, her basket full, bursting with different kinds of herbs. She crawled back through her hole, hiding it with bits of hay as usual. The stablemaster seemingly had disappeared and the stableboy was nowhere to be found, yet the horses were grazing the field.

But when she left, she noted a little sparrow sitting on the hay bales, staring directly at her. It ran shivers down her spine. There was a superstition, but she couldn't quite remember it... it did have something to do with sparrows and stables, though.

**A sparrow near a stable is thought to predict a fall.**

**~ Faustus, God of Wolves. Book of Redemption, Paragraph 367.**


End file.
